ON THE FRINGE: THEATER REVIEWS FROM THE EDGE

'Own Wife' gets new life at BoHo

'Hopper' leaves paintings flat

Every so often, a work of theater becomes inextricably linked with a certain actor, perhaps none more so than Doug Wright's 2004 Pulitzer and Tony-winning bio-play "I Am My Own Wife."

Since its inception, the one-man show -- about the German transvestite Charlotte von Mahlsdorf and Wright's struggle to unearth her story -- has been synonymous with Jefferson Mays, who brought each of the script's many characters to life with the kind of heart and detail that make you shake your head in admiration.

Which means the current production at BoHo Theater (sans Mays) is a departure -- and a necessary departure, at that. Plays are meant to be performed by different actors who can bring their own stamp to a role, and BoHo has certainly found a good candidate in actor Peter Robel.

The play is a documentary, primarily focused on Wright's interviews with von Mahlsdorf at her home in Germany. It is an intricately designed work of theater and the kind of acting challenge (portraying every character in the script) that goes well beyond the demands of a typical role. I believed every one of Robel's characters as distinct people, and the TV talk show scene, wherein the actor is gabbing with himself, is a bravura moment in a production co-directed by Stephen M. Genovese and Peter Marston Sullivan.

The essential element here is the set design from the impressive John Zuiker, who has created a tiny but ornate room that resembles something from a 19th century European building. Everything is coated in white paint, and Robel, dressed in a simple black costume, pops from the scenery.

The often melancholic but always intriguing paintings of Edward Hopper are the inspiration for WNEP's newest show, an undertaking that is ultimately full of unreached potential. Despite a tantalizing premise -- Hopper's paintings brought to life -- all too often the writing and a problematic set design get in the way. It's a profoundly unsatisfying experience.

Heath Hays' two-tiered scenic design runs the length of the theater. The audience is so close to the set, it's like sitting with your nose pressed against a wide-screen TV.

The diner so famously captured in Hopper's "Nighthawks" is featured prominently here, and there is something riveting about the mostly wordless scenes that take place within. But it's tough to get past the labored writing, and I never felt as if I were stepping into the reality of these paintings.